


a spine but no bones

by sickgirl_mp3



Category: eh - Fandom
Genre: F/M, a librarian and her teacher friend
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-06
Updated: 2018-11-06
Packaged: 2019-08-19 17:04:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16538675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sickgirl_mp3/pseuds/sickgirl_mp3
Summary: love is crazy huh





	a spine but no bones

9:10 PM. Beyoncé's favorite time. She punches her timecard (the library is that old), wanders around for another hour, and finally goes home. Tonight is no different. 

 

She strolls along, feeling a presence with her in the large, open area. She likes to believe those are authors’ spirits. Fingers caress the spines of books for milliseconds as she passes, inhaling their old and familiar scent. 

 

Moonlight filters in through the glass ceilings. She feels at home but she also feels like she isn't alone. Backwards she walks, eyes closed, surrendering to the night, the spirits, the stale air-she walks right into something. Actually, it's a _ someone. _ Beyoncé doesn't scream; she smells the detergent and soap on them when they wrap their arms around her and knows who it is. Jordan. 

 

“‘Clocking out,’ huh?” he asks, kissing her on the head. 

 

Beyoncé hums in agreement. 

 

“That's what I was doing ‘til you interrupted me.”

 

Jordan kisses her ear, her cheek, her jaw, her neck. 

 

“Missed you,” he tells Beyoncé, lips still on her neck, breath cool on her skin, “didn’t hear from you all day.”

  
  


* * *

  
  


Jordan's wrists are being held by Beyoncé; her legs are on his shoulders. Her hips writhe against Jordan's as she gets fucked by him. She can feel the muscles in his arms tighten as he clenches his fists and grunts, undoubtedly at the feeling of her wrapped around him. He starts thrusting a bit more wildly, making Beyoncé let out a cracked moan and dig her nails into his skin. When she gets a little more used to the new rhythm, she lets one of Jordan's wrists go, gripping the other tighter so she can bring his hand to her throat. Jordan catches on immediately, wrapping his hand around her neck strategically timing where, when, and how he tightens it as he goes. Beyoncé’s eyes flutter as she smiles, pleasure flooding every orifice. Jordan presses deeper into her, hovering closer to her, making moans border on crying. 

 

Jordan scrunches his nose up so his glasses can slide back up into the right place on his nose. He smiles as if he's about to say something irritating. 

 

“What?” Beyoncé manages to croak.

 

“How often do you guys dust in the library?” Jordan asks. 

 

Beyoncé's brow furrows; she's not sure where this conversation is about to go and she was expecting something annoying to come from Jordan's mouth.

 

Jordan continues. 

 

“‘Cause I think all that dust has me a little…” Jordan trails off, seemingly in search of a word, before he grins.

 

“What?” Beyoncé groans. 

 

“It has a little choked up, that's all.”

 

“I really hate you.”

 

Jordan squeezes Beyonce's throat a little tighter, a cocky smile softly settling on his face. 

 

“You love me,” he says, humored, taking Beyonce's legs off of his shoulders and spreading them. 

 

Beyoncé's eyes squeeze shut as Jordan slows down, making sure to go deep; she grips his wrist with both hands. She comes with a choked out whine, shaking as Jordan talks her through it and coaxes her into letting him do it again. She's a mess of writhing legs and hands pushing on his stomach- she gave him the OK to keep going, but she’s so overwhelmed by everything happening that she feels as if she might pass out. 

 

“Oh, you're not qutting on me, are you?” Jordan teases, letting go of Beyoncé's throat. “Not now.”

 

“Fuck you.”

 

* * *

  
  


Jordan's on his back, his breathing still heavy but slowing gradually. Beyoncé takes his glasses off for him, putting them on the nightstand next to her. She wraps her arms around him, ear on his chest. She knows he's already half asleep.  

 

“You always fall asleep first,” Beyoncé mumbles sweetly, sleepy too. 

 

Jordan's hand shoots up, startling Beyoncé, slapping around the nightstand. He's not looking because she guesses he doesn't want to open his eyes. His demeanor’s shifted, Beyoncé can't explain it. He finds a ring behind his alarm clock and holds it straight up in the air, as if he's an undead person coming out of a grave arm-first. 

 

“I wanna do it forever, Beyoncé,” Jordan says, arm still in the air as he looks at her.

 

“You're nuts,” Beyoncé says, rushing to kiss him. 

 


End file.
